


Water? Vodka? It’s All One in the Same

by badatbeingbohemian



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Awkward Dates, Bisexual Sawamura Daichi, Bisexual Sugawara Koushi, Blind Date, Chance Meetings, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Elementary School Teacher Sugawara Koushi, Embarrassment, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Italics, M/M, Mentioned Azumane Asahi, Police Officer Sawamura Daichi, Post-Time Skip, Protective Sawamura Daichi, Regret, Sawamura Daichi Loves Sugawara Koushi, Sugawara Koushi is a Little Shit, Sugawara Koushi is a Mess, Teacher Sugawara Koushi, Time Skips, Too Drunk To Care, sawamura daichi is a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badatbeingbohemian/pseuds/badatbeingbohemian
Summary: Sugawara Koushi finally gives in to a persistent coworker and lets them set him up on a blind date. It turns out to be the worst date he’s ever been on. So what does he do? He drinks.Coincidentally, Sawamura Daichi is in the same bar and, being the great friend he is, offers to end the suffering and take Suga home. It just so happens that Suga has no filter when he’s drunk.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	Water? Vodka? It’s All One in the Same

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this incredibly sleep deprived but I found it funny at the time and it was fun to write so here we go. Hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> (Rated for teens plus but maybe like high school age? Like 15+? It depends on the person I think, so mild warning for some sexual themes, excessive alcohol and stuff.)

It had always surprised people when they found out Sugawara Koushi hated sweets, and, from the way his date was staring at him all wide-eyed and slack-jawed as he downed straight vodka as easily as it had been water, he assumed that remained to be true. 

They'd been in that pub for a while, drinking beer and getting to know each other. What Suga found out about this girl was exactly how not his type she was. It had been set up by a colleague, a middle-aged woman adamant that he would one day marry her youngest daughter. He had finally caved one morning when she'd barged into his elementary school classroom to show him her eldest's wedding photos. He had been feeling particularly lonely, having had a very unfulfilling one night stand just hours before, and in his hungover state, it had left him rather weak-willed. What was one date?

Everything. One date was everything. An entire evening wasted. He could have been sitting alone at his kitchen table, leaving _well done_ stickers in six-year-olds' summer diaries or jerking off on the couch as some douchebag reporter detailed an unfortunate robbery-turned-murder in the background. It would have been time better spent than pretending to be interested in marketing strategies and labradoodles. So, having been stuck there for almost two hours without a reasonable excuse to leave, he started to drink.

He ordered a gin and tonic, not bothering to ask if she wanted one because he didn't want to pay for it. He had already spent enough on her by showing up. If she had turned out to be really outgoing or exceptionally attractive or even just _nice_ , maybe it wouldn't have been so bad, but she had been short with him for being literally six minutes late and complained that it had been hard to find parking even though she had picked the place. At first he thought she had at least been polite by waiting for him to order a drink but, even after ordering the most expensive cocktail on the menu, she made no move to pay for it. That's when he realised she expected him to. But why was she drinking in the first place if she had to drive herself home? Knowing the type of person whatsherface was, she was likely trying to test him by seeing if he would be willing to put her up in a taxi at the end of the night. Or maybe she was hoping to go home with him. Either way, she'd be disappointed.

And when their conversation turned as dry as the gin, he ordered vodka. And not just a shot. No, he asked for a full glass. When the bartender tried to protest he handed over way more money than a single drink was worth and struck them with a look that screamed, _it's either this or I blow my brains out over your wall. Your choice_. Needless to say, he got his drink.

"Suga?"

He looked up from his half-empty glass and swivelled around in his bar stool, searching out the source of his own name. Anything to stop her from starting up again about her ex and the girl he replaced her with. So when his eyes met Sawamura Daichi's, he was overjoyed. The heavens had blessed him with someone he actually enjoyed the company of! They hadn't seen each other in a handful of years but that was fine, that's just what entering the workforce does to high school pals. Now they could catch up and have fun and, better yet, he could give him an excuse to dip. 

"Daichi! What are you doing here?"

"Grabbing a few drinks with a couple guys from the station. Haven't seen you in an age."

"It's so good to see you."

"Woah," Daichi chuckled as Suga hopped off the stool. It was a familiar deep rumbling sound that echoed in Suga's skull, or maybe that was just the fuzziness playing at the edge of his eyesight now that he'd stood up. He hadn't realised he was so heavily intoxicated. He never did when he was drinking seated. Daichi held out a hand and took his elbow, steadying him. "Good thing your girlfriend's got you on water already."

"She's not my girlfriend."

Maybe the clarification came too quickly because whatshername seemed a little miffed, but Suga honestly couldn't have cared less. Daichi was there to save him.

"Oh, alright then."

He shot her one of those fake smiles you give your mother's church friends when you bump into them at the supermarket. He knew what was going on. He was smart. Of course he figured it out. 

But Suga was drunk so that didn't one hundred percent click with him quite yet, thus he leaned into his old friend's side, pushed up on his tiptoes and whispered not-so-quietly, "This is the worst date ever. I'm drinking to forget and it's not even over yet."

Daichi wished he had stopped the laugh that exploded from his lips, but the comment was so ridiculously forthright that he just couldn't hold it in. Suga drunkenly giggling in his ear didn't help the situation at all and the look on this poor woman's face was priceless. But Daichi knew Suga well enough to know that he could handle alcohol better than most, so he must've been feeling pretty tortured to let himself get to this point.

"How about we get you home, buddy?" he proposed, wrapping an arm around his friend's slim waist to keep him upright.

Inside, Suga was jumping for joy. _The saviour has risen! Somebody tell the Pope!_ On the outside however, he had to stay calm, cool and collected. His date didn't know he hated her (to his knowledge) so he had to play it off like he was reluctant to leave early. It was the right thing to do. The same way some people will keep a friend on standby, ready to call them with urgent news of a grave emergency that needs specifically their attention, and then everyone pretends that it's a totally plausible situation and that _yes, we'll definitely reschedule_. It was polite.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly leave... _her_. That would be so not cool on my part."

Daichi sighed fondly and sent whatshername a look that kind of apologised but also really didn't. Suga was so disinterested he couldn't even recall her name.

"Well, what can you do?" he shrugged, choosing to play along with the bit, "You're drunk. It's for the best."

He turned to Suga's date and gave her a once over. He was good at reading people. He had to be to be a policeman. She was overdressed for a pub date. Expensive purse, shiny shoes, a dress that told him she wanted people to think she had money but hadn't quite gotten the class bit but down yet. 

Regardless of first impressions, he still felt a little bad, so he tried to assure her, "Sorry about this. I'm sure he'll feel bad about it in the morning." 

But he wasn't sure of that in the slightest. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Suga would feel bad for himself come sunrise because of the major hangover he would inevitably wake up to. Instead of dwelling on it, he gathered Suga's coat and helped him to slip it on.

"Drink your water."

Suga peered down at his glass and, in his drunken haze, mumbled, "Right. Water. Sure," and downed the remainder of the vodka. Whatsherface watched on in silent horror but made no move to stop it.

Daichi called a taxi service as they left the bar and the two of them waited outside together under the dim streetlights, Suga leaning heavy on his shoulder.

"You reek of alcohol."

"It's probably all the vodka."

"Vodka? No, Suga, you didn't," at his friend's blank stare, Daichi groaned, "You didn't do that thing you used to do in university, right? Where you chugged liquor straight from the bottle?"

Suga hummed, "No bottles."

Daichi felt like facepalming. "What am I supposed to do with you?"

"Spank me, Daddy," Suga moaned, though it was very clearly fake, "I've been a bad boy."

"Be quiet. People are looking at you weird now."

Suga just laughed, carefree and vibrant.

Thankfully, their taxi pulled up soon after. Suga leant on Daichi's arm the whole journey home, purposely ignoring the driver's suspicious glances back at the two of them through the rear-view mirror. Maybe it was because he was too drunk to care what nameless strangers thought of him, or maybe it was because he liked the idea of looking like part of an established couple, even if it was with an old friend he hadn't seen in years. Whichever it was, he pressed his nose to the thick woollen fabric of Daichi's coat and inhaled. He smelt of pine needles, jasmine, apricots and moss. It was a strange mix of floral and musky and sweet, yet it was so deliciously manly. Suga wondered what was due to detergents and colognes, and what was naturally Daichi. Or maybe he smelt of something special, hidden under all that soap.

He sighed contently, turning his head to lay his temple back on his friend's shoulders. Ten years later and they were still so broad and meaty. Maybe even more so.

Daichi watched as he did so, completely unable to think of anything to say past, "Did you just smell me?"

"And what of it?" Suga slurred.

Daichi merely snorted. Suga was still as weird as ever. It seemed people didn't change, after all.

"That was the worst date ever."

"You said."

"Maybe I should just go full on gay. Women are so tiresome."

"Do you like men?"

Suga nodded, soft grey locks tickling Daichi's jaw. He probably should have been nervous. In all their years of friendship, he couldn't think of one instance in which they'd discussed same-sex relationships.

"Had a crush on you all throughout high school."

"Oh. Well, that's flattering."

 _He took that surprisingly well_ , Suga thought to himself. He knew he should probably stop forcing himself into Daichi's personal space after revealing that particular information, but at the same time, he felt like he might throw up if he raised his head right now and that was not a cute look. Maybe a few of those feelings still lingered.

A nervous laugh bubbled up from his throat. "Remember when Sudou Rinko confessed to me in second year? And I turned her down 'cause I already liked somebody else? You and Asahi wouldn't stop bugging me about it. You practically listed off every girl in the year before you gave up. Half of the year below too."

Daichi could feel his ears burning and hoped to every god out there that Suga didn't notice. He'd tease the hell out of him sober, never mind when he drunkenly rid himself of his filter.

"Asahi said it might've been a guy but I never would've dreamt you were talking about me."

"Three years of staring at those thighs in skimpy lil' volleyball shorts... you're kidding yourself, Daichi."

They reached Sugawara's apartment complex then so, after an exceptionally judgemental stare from the taxi driver, even after they'd paid him, Daichi slipped an arm around Suga's waist and helped him stumble inside.

Suga's apartment was simultaneously empty and messy and Daichi didn't quite understand how he managed it. There was minimal furniture, but nothing was put away either. The vacuum cleaner stood in the corner of the living room, a tea tray was sat on top of the kotatsu, a blanket was strewn over the back of the sofa and a used chopping board and knife were left lying on the kitchen counter, alongside cleaned dishes that had never been put back in the cupboard. The bookshelves were stocked but dishevelled. There was no order to the authors or genres, some stacked on their sides in the middle of the row where they'd fallen and he'd never bothered to right them again. The cushions on the sofa were flattened from use, the curtains were still half-closed from the night before and, the only thing to truly irk Daichi about the disorder, none of his shoes were tidy in the genkan.

Suga didn't usually care if people saw this. Who did he have to impress? One night stands and his own right hand. But now Daichi was there. Daichi, who was so orderly and deliberate about everything he did, who knew how to cook more than just rice and stir fries, who was practically an adult at sixteen from helping his parents raise his considerably younger siblings. He murmured out an apology because there was nothing else he could do, slipping off his derbies and kicking them haphazardly to the side. Daichi grit his teeth, fighting down the urge to neaten them. His sloshed friend was more important.

"Thank you for helping me escape that dumpster fire of a first date. You're a saint," Suga garbled, "I'm sorry you had to leave your workmates early just to bring my dumbass home."

Daichi shook his head. Suga felt a little dizzy just watching him do it.

"Don't worry about it. We have this new guy at the station so we were taking him out to get to know him or whatever, and if he isn't annoying. So, really, you helped me out too."

"Glad I could be of service."

Suga teetered towards the kitchenette, where he plucked one of those spotless glasses from the counter and stuck it under the tap. Finally able to put his chugging skills to full use, he threw his head back and relaxed his throat, letting the refreshingly cold liquid cleanse his system. He needed to pee already but his head would surely thank him in the morning should his bladder protest. _I better not piss myself in my sleep_. He filled the glass again.

Maybe he would throw up.

Daichi helped steer him towards the bedroom, letting Suga concentrate on keeping his hands steady enough to keep the water in the cup. Reaching the bed, he very carefully set it down on his bedside table. _Coaster_. Where was his coaster?

Meanwhile, Daichi was taking in the room around him. Again, it was barely furnished. A double bed with plain navy sheets, pushed up against the wall and with only one nightstand. There was a single chair sitting in the far corner, beside it a floor lamp and at its feet a pile of dog-eared books. And not good books. Very obviously shitty romance and detective novels that no self-respecting bookworm would ever admit to reading. At the foot of the bed was a single rail, and from it hung the entirety of his clothing collection. A couple t-shirts, a couple button downs, a couple jumpers and, you guessed it, a couple pairs of trousers. Against the wall was a desk. Scattered atop it were packets and sheets and booklets, the writing big and simple and with plenty of accompanying pictures. The walls were completely bare bar from a handful of pages pinned above said desk, all slightly crumpled or creased, one crinkled with water damage from a particularly disastrous juice incident, but all entirely sentimental in value. They were pictures drawn in crayon or half-dried felt tips, doused in glitter and washable paint, each addressed to _Sugawara-sensei_ in the distinctly recognisable handwritings of children.

Daichi couldn't stop the small smile tugging fondly at his lips. This room told him a lot of things about his old friend and number one was that he took his job seriously and genuinely enjoyed the work, enough that he would hang reminders in his own bedroom. He really cared for those kids. Still, Suga was a functioning adult (although Daichi was seriously questioning that as of tonight) with a full-time job, or arguably a successful career, yet this was his home? Talk about a batchelor pad. And the clothes... Daichi hoped there was more in a laundry basket somewhere and that he just hadn't gotten around to cleaning yet, but he seriously doubted it.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Suga's hand appeared on his forearm, gripping a little too tight in an attempt to ensure he wouldn't fall on his ass as he bent around Daichi to pluck a coaster off the desk. Daichi chuckled, his other hand out and ready to catch him should such a predictable tragedy have occurred. He guided him back to sit on his bed, easily slipping the miniature mat under the glass of water for him, and watched him struggle to remove his coat with a far too amused glint in his chocolate brown eyes.

Feeling eyes on him, Suga looked up, chucking his coat in the general direction of the clothing rail and trying not to fall backwards as he did so. That attempt failed miserably. His arm flailed in the open air for but a second before he flopped onto the mattress below. Not being one to dwell on the humilities of life however, Suga simply snorted and wiggled himself back up, flashing Daichi a totally unashamed grin as he did so.

"I know you're not gay," he blurted out, "but indulge my inner sixteen-year-old self with a kiss."

Daichi rolled his eyes, a hand on his hip as he stated flatly, "You have no filter when you're drunk."

Suga groaned, giving up on dignity and letting himself collapse back down onto his back. A wave of nausea hit him. Or maybe that was the knowledge that he would remain forever alone.

"Just a peck. And it doesn't have to be on the lips. Cheek, forehead— even my fucking hand. _God_ , I'm so pathetically lonely. Sorry. I swear I'm not trying to guilt trip you or anything. You're not gay. You like hot girls with skinny waists and big tits and I am decidedly _not that_. Sorry. I'm such a mess right now."

"Stop talking, Suga."

"Sorry."

"You're talking nonsense."

"Sorry."

Daichi shushed him, placing a hand on the middle of his chest and pushing him back into the bed. When had he even sat up again? _Whatever. I'm too drunk for this_. He lay in motionless silence as Daichi went down the row of buttons on his shirt, popping each one open with ease. Suga knew Daichi just saw this as helping his plastered friend get ready for bed, but his own mind was much dirtier than that. He was embarrassed of the fantasised images flooding his brain, but at the same time, he was too drunk to be ashamed. Blood started to flow south. As long as Daichi stayed up north, everything would be okay.

"I don't know if you remember, you said you had completely blacked out the morning after, but there was this one time in our third year of university — it was a Christmas party I think — but, uh, yeah. You kissed me."

"Really?" Suga groaned, raising an arm to his face and laying across his eyes. The lights were too bright. It had nothing to do with the redness of his cheeks. "I don't remember that at all."

Daichi huffed out a short, awkward laugh, "Yeah. You weren't in your right head though. It wasn't a big deal."

Suga let himself chuckle. Daichi was being so cool about the whole _big gay crush_ thing and the _I'm lonely and desperate_ thing, he couldn't help but want to joke about it. That was how he got through unfortunate situations and traumatic events. It was his philosophy; if you can't laugh at yourself, how in the hell you gonna laugh at anybody else? That's how he got through life. Daichi had always smiled along with him before. Besides, he was drunk as all hell. _Fuck it_.

"So what you're saying is, if I were to kiss you right now, I couldn't be held accountable for my actions later," Suga teased.

"That's what I said," Daichi hummed, "If I were to kiss you however, that would be taking advantage of an incredibly inebriated individual. It just wouldn't be right."

"Sounds legit," Suga mumbled, shimmying back to prop himself up on his elbows.

Was this police speak for flirting? It seemed like flirting. Maybe he was just too wrecked from all the fucking vodka. And the beers. And the gin. His perception was skewed. He wished that last bit really had been water now. Oh yeah... water. He should drink that cup of water.

Slowly but surely, he sat up fully again. Daichi took the opportunity to slip the stiff material of his dress shirt down his slim shoulders. Suga felt clammy from all the alcohol, flushed and a little sweaty, so the cool night air on his pallid skin was welcome. And it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that his high school crush was undressing him and it not being a dream. Well, even if it was.

"What do you prefer to sleep in?"

Suga smirked, unable to refrain from the joke, and replied, "The nude."

Daichi rolled his eyes but reached forward anyway. He didn't comment on Suga's downstairs situation as he undid his trousers and slid them down his pillowy thighs, which Suga was nothing if not grateful for. Daichi also noticed that he'd put on a little weight since their volleyball days, but he also thought this new pudge to his tummy was adorable, not to mention how soft the pale flesh was as his knuckles grazed down his supple legs. It suited him.

He left it at that, gathering Suga's worn clothes and folding them quick and neat at the end of the bed. Suga was lying back on his mattress again, but he had finally swivelled his body around so that he was fully the right way around. He had been left wearing nothing but tight boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his issue, pillow puffing up around his head and fair locks tumbling into his eyes. It was cute. It was really cute. If Sugawara were to ask him into bed, Daichi didn't think he'd be able to resist. After all, he was a very simple man.

He sat on the bedside, not wanting to leave just yet but not really having an excuse to stay. Suga's hazelnut eyes fluttered open and he eyed him wearily. Just what was going through Daichi's head in that moment? It was a familiar question. One he had asked himself on repeat for years. Daichi ran a hand through his hair and Suga noticed the distinct absence of a ring. He needed to pay more attention to things like that. He hadn't even thought of the possibility until that very moment.

"You're not married."

"No."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Shouldn't you have asked that before shamelessly flirting with me?"

Suga shrugged. If he weren't already flushed from drinking, he would've worried about the heat in his cheeks.

"Can I really kiss you?"

"If you want."

Suga stretched out his arms and made grabby hands, completely unbothered to heave his tired body up yet again. Daichi was all too happy to oblige. He bent down, placing a steadying hand on the other side of Suga's ribs, and closed his eyes. For but a second, they anticipated each other, until Suga pushed up and, at long last, pressed their lips together.

 _Finally_. 

"Totally unrelated,” Suga mumbled as they broke apart, “But I’m gonna throw up." 

Daichi’s eyes blew wide.

Oh fuck. 

**Author's Note:**

> Willing to write a follow up if anyone wants it. Feel free to request something or give ideas! 
> 
> Comments encouraged!! :D 
> 
> I just learnt that the kind of place I was thinking of is called an izakaya. It’s pretty much like our British pubs but obviously a Japanese version, more like a restaurant that people like to drink in than somewhere to drink that might serve food. I think izakayas always serve food acc but don’t quote me on that haha. Just thought that was interesting nugget of knowledge :)


End file.
